Tossed Into Love (Fluke My Life 3)

Right . . . for Libby.

My eyes zero in on her as soon as she steps away from an older gentleman. My heart starts to pound hard against my rib cage. She looks beautiful tonight. She’s wearing a long black dress that’s tied at her waist. Her dark hair is down around her shoulders, and her face is made up almost like it was the night I took her out for our first date. I pull in a few deep breaths to build up the courage I need to do this.

She must sense my eyes on her, because her gaze comes directly to me. Her eyes widen, then fill with worry and fear.

“Antonio.” I hear her whisper my name even over the noise in the room. It feels like time stops as we do nothing but stare at each other.

Without telling my feet to do it, I take a step toward her. My hands start to shake. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Walter standing with a group of people. I turn to glare at him, ignoring the knowing grin he’s wearing before I return my attention to Libby.

“Antonio. What are you doing here?”

“We’re at the part where I need to beg for your forgiveness,” I say.

Her body goes still, and even her breathing seems to stop. Closing the distance between us, I go to her and get down on my knees. I take both her hands in mine. I don’t give a fuck that everyone in the room has stopped talking. All I care about is the woman in front of me.

“There’s this guy. He met a girl, a perfect girl. The perfect girl for him, and he was a jerk to her.”

“Antonio.” Her eyes close as her hands start to shake, so I hold her more firmly.

“That girl hopefully fell in love with that guy—despite the fact that he doesn’t deserve her.”

“She did.” Her eyes open to meet mine.

“That guy was an idiot.” I shake my head. “He was self-centered, selfish, and in the end, an even bigger jerk to the girl. He should have taken better care of her.” Tears start to fill her beautiful eyes. “He probably made her cry a lot.”

“He did,” she tells me. “He also made me drink a lot,” she says with a shy smile.

“I hate that, Princess,” I whisper. “I hate that I made you cry. I hate that I fucked up. I hate that I walked away from you.” My throat starts to get tight with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Princess. So fucking sorry that I didn’t listen when you tried to talk to me. Sorry that I didn’t trust you the way that I should have. I love you, Libby. Please forgive me for being an asshole.”

“I’m sorry, too, you know,” she says as tears start to track down her cheeks. “And of course I forgive you. It’s my job to take you back even when I shouldn’t.”

She whispers the last part, and I bury my face against her stomach while I wrap my arms tightly around her waist. Her body curls around mine, and her mouth rests against the top of my head.

“I love you, Antonio.”

“I love you, too, Princess. So fucking much.” I stand and gather her tightly against my chest when I hear her sob and feel her tuck her face into my neck.

“Show’s over,” someone says loudly.

I pick her up and carry her to the office, through the crowd of people. I kick the door shut with my foot once we’re inside. I don’t look around to see the changes she’s made; I just take a seat on the couch and hold her in my lap, running my hand up and down her back.

“Princess Pizza?” I mutter.

She giggles, and the sound slides over me, smoothing out all the jagged edges the last two weeks have cut into me.

“I’m in love with a guy who calls me Princess, so I thought it was the perfect name for the shop,” she says.

I look at her smiling face.

God, I love her so fucking much.

“Walter can’t have you,” I growl without thinking, tightening my hold on her.

“What?” She frowns, and the small smile on her face just moments ago disappears with my statement.

“You’re mine.”

“I know I’m yours,” she agrees. “Why are you even talking about Walter?”

“I saw you with him.”

“You saw me with him?” she repeats, looking confused. “He’s here with Palo.”

“Not tonight. A few days ago. I saw you with him here at the shop. You were coming out, and he was with you.”

“Oh . . .” Realization fills her beautiful eyes.

“He can’t have you,” I repeat.

Her eyes soften as her hand comes to rest against my jaw.

“He was just checking on me. The last time he saw me, I had just gotten my heart ripped out of my chest, remember? He was worried, but we’re not . . .” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t. I don’t want anyone but you.”